


perfect love came slowly with the dawn

by elainebarrish



Category: Big Little Lies (TV 2017), Big Little Lies - Liane Moriarty
Genre: F/F, also that whole antagonistic and then apologetic and tentative thing ? nice, female friendships are what I'm alive 4, that's why this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 07:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10566165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elainebarrish/pseuds/elainebarrish
Summary: You love them all, you think you always will, but Renata makes your heart flip, makes you feel butterflies you'd forgotten had taken up roost in your tummy, and just her smile across a room makes you blush to your hairline, makes you self consciously lower your eyes.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [helenecixous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenecixous/gifts).



> title from sleep alone by moby 
> 
> ALL THE CREDIT EVER 2 betsy who basically wrote the plot for me i just had 2 make it like. happen.
> 
> also i read the book once i was already approximately halfway through writing this so. not book canon compliant. honestly I've kind of cherry picked actually so it's not exactly show compliant either lmao. one thing that stays true to both is that jane is real fuckin gay and female friendships are the ultimate
> 
> also i wrote surprisingly a lot of this on my phone and didn't proofread at all so there's probably typos and it's probably not consistent at all lmao

You watch as Maddie and Renata’s marriages dissolve, as Bonnie tries so hard to keep the peace between Maddie and Nathan, as she seems to side more and more with Maddie, and you wonder if somehow the five of you are getting in the way of each other’s relationships. You try to date a couple of guys, take them to a couple of dinners and bring them when the husbands were brought along, but the five of you always end up excluding them, and your breakups always come along the lines of you never putting him first, of you always being ready to drop whatever for them, of them always being who you called when you needed someone. Your kids all become friends, are almost always seen in a group, and each of you acts as babysitter whenever someone needs one, and between you things get worked out, mostly. There’s still bad nights and bad days and sometimes Ziggy asks too many questions that you now know the answers to but you can’t tell him, can’t tell anyone but the four other women who were there that night, and maybe that’s why marriages are dissolving, because there’s so many secrets that can’t get out, not even to husbands or boyfriends or even Tom.

Renata ends up being the one that needs someone to babysit most often, because even with her high profile job and moving out of her dream house, she can’t really afford the round the clock that she had before, and so it often falls to you to bring Amabella home with Ziggy until Renata gets out of work and can come and pick her up. Often that just turns into you and Ziggy and Amabella going to Madeline’s, where she usually has Max and Josh because Celeste’s back to working full time. You and Madeline laugh at the career moms even as both of you debate taking on more work to support your families, and you laugh whenever she talks about how much she’s getting from Ed in child support. It’s peaceful and comfortable and you're scared because you don't want to ruin this, this friendship and routine that the five of you have, but you know that you more than admire Renata, you know that the way your tummy flips when she kisses you on the cheek is more than just you thinking she's a great friend. You try to think about how she was when the two of you first met, you try to convince yourself that she’s maybe as mean as you'd first thought, but honestly you've just been shown that she's fiercely protective, and that that protectiveness now somehow includes you.

It takes Renata snapping at one of the other mothers after they mutter something you don't catch about Ziggy, it takes her glaring at them and then turning to you with a smile at pickup, the first pickup she’d managed to get off of work for in weeks. You ache at the thought of going back to your empty house when Madeline turns around to see you gazing at Renata, who’s still glaring at whichever mother had said something, and she invites you both back with her and Chloe and Josh and Max, and you both smile and nod and you climb into your car with butterflies driving you crazy and Ziggy quiet in the back. You haven't felt like this in a long time, long enough that you hadn't bothered to mention to Maddie or anyone about your past girlfriends, long enough that you hadn't even thought about how you would potentially start that conversation with Ziggy.

Madeline hands you a beer and pours herself and Renata some wine, and she fills the room with chatter in a way that you've always found comfortable, her ease with you something you hadn't realised you'd missed before you met her. You think about how weird it is, for her and Renata to be stood here in her slightly less ostentatious kitchen, drinking wine and hearing the kids chatter in the next room, talking easily. You all thought the transition would be harder, that Maddie wouldn't let Renata in, but all it takes is a couple of profuse apologies and several bottles of wine and a realisation that what happened to you all is more important than the past years of rivalry. Now they're stood on either side of the kitchen island, laughing at some story about one of Renata’s coworkers, and when Renata excuses herself to answer her phone Maddie doesn't even roll her eyes.

“You’ve been unusually quiet,” she looks at you, frowning. “ Are you okay?”

“I’m always quiet,” you shrug, uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

“Yeah but you seem… distracted.” You know she's going to ask you if Ziggy’s been asking about his dad again, you know that she's going to worry if you don't tell her what you're really thinking about, but if you're honest you just don't want to.

“Well, uh, yeah I am distracted,” you shrug, laugh, unable to help the smile. “But it’s not for the reason you think, it’s not because of anything bad.”

“I think I recognise that smile,” she says, practically grinning at you, and you see her eyes narrow and you know she's going to get it out of you. “So who is he? Do I know him already? Is he cute?”

“You have to promise not to tell anyone,” you interrupt, and she grins.

“So I do know him?” you glare at her and she rolls her eyes. “Yes okay, fine, I promise not to tell anyone.”

“Firstly it’s uh, it’s not a guy?” Your tone is questioning and her eyes widen, but her grin stays.

“You could have told me you’re not straight!”

“It didn't come up,” you laugh, relieved, even though you don't think you truly thought that her reception would be bad (she did like Avenue Q, after all).

“But still! We could have had a sleepover and chatted about girls.”

You double take and then you grin, raising your eyebrow. “You could have told me you weren't straight either.”

“I didn't think it would come up,” she replies and you sit back, shaking your head. “So who is she? Oh, wait, is it that cute barista in the starbucks that we go to occasionally?”

“No, we both, uh, know her a bit better than that,” you hedge, and she leans forward.

“Is it one of the mums that you talk to when we pick up the kids at school sometimes? The one with the dark hair?”

“I mean I do talk to her then sometimes but it’s not her.” Renata chooses that exact moment to walk back into the room, and you glance at her, still tapping away on her phone, and you feel your cheeks go red, and Maddie looks at her and then back at you, and the delighted, shocked look on face almost gives the game up right then, but she's neutral by the time Renata sits back down at the kitchen island, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

“You’d think they’d be able to manage a normal afternoon without me, but I've got about a million emails anyway,” she huffs, picking her wine back up. “Did I miss anything?”

You think Maddie’s about to squeal at her, but you just clear your throat and meet her eyes. “No, we were just talking about the progress Ziggy’s making. He got an A on a reading project a few days ago.” You don't have to fake the pride in your voice, and you smile as Renata effusively talks about what a smart kid he is; she'll probably never stop feeling a little bit terrible for what happened at the beginning of first grade. 

She leaves with kisses to both of your cheeks, a smile as Amabella says goodbye to the other kids, as she quietly and awkwardly thanks Madeline for having her over, as she always does after one of these afternoons, and Renata looks proud of her in a way you both intimately recognise.

“Come on, I’m going to get you another beer and you're going to spill on why Renata of all people.”

“Oh come on you like her now!” You laugh, and she shrugs.

“She's still like, double your age or something.”

“I don't really get to choose who I end up interested in,” you reply, because you don't know why her, why she's the person that makes you lose your composure. “And anyway everyone I talk to around here is like double my age.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that actually I’m not even approaching fifty yet.”

“Yeah maybe not right now,” you tease, and she brushes you off, rolls her eyes.

“So anyway, are you gonna do anything about it? I have to admit that she is cute.”

“What? No, no I’m not gonna get in the way of the group parenting thing we’ve all got going on,” you shrug, still smiling, because you don’t think this being unrequited needs to necessarily be a bad thing, because you get to have her in your life regardless of whether you want more or not.

“If she can’t handle you being attracted to her then that is her problem,” Maddie starts and you just laugh, shaking your head.

“It’s more hassle than it would be worth, she only got divorced like, a year ago, there’s the kids to think about, there’s you guys to consider, just for her to inevitably say no and then it be kind of weird?”

“You never know unless you give it a try,” she tells you, and you just laugh, and shrug, and wonder how unbearable she’s going to be from then on.

The raised eyebrows across rooms become usual, her shooting you that particular slightly smug look behind Renata’s back whenever she so much as smiles in your direction, and you play it cool. Maddie doesn’t say anything that could be construed as anything in front of her, and does actually ask you before she attempts to create a group chat with Bonnie and Celeste in which they would discuss ways to get the two of you together, but when you say no you have a sneaking suspicion that she just created one that doesn’t have either of you in it. You don’t have any proof for this, because Celeste looks as knowing as she ever did, and Bonnie does mostly talk about yoga and free range yogurt or something, but you can’t help narrowing your eyes at Maddie whenever she grins too hard, and you’d be pretty damn surprised if the others hadn’t noticed by now. Honestly, you’d think that Renata should have noticed by now but even with her big mouth Maddie is much better at keeping secrets than any of you had ever really expected.

It’s a week later when you get a random phone call, later than expected, and when you see it’s Renata you frown. You wonder if something happened with Amabella and she’s calling you to ask if she’d said anything to you, which she hadn’t, she’d seemed the same as usual for the hour or so she’d been here, and when Renata had swung by to pick her up she’d also seemed the same as usual, as rushed as you were used to and had fussed over Amabella the same as she always did.

“Hi?” You answer, and you hear her take a deep breath.

“I know it’s a bit late, but Amabella wanted to know if Ziggy could come over for dinner, if the two of you haven’t already eaten, and that invitation is obviously also extended to you.” She sounds nervous, and you hope she can’t tell that you’re biting your lip to keep from smiling.

“We haven’t eaten yet, no. I’d be up for that, let me just ask Ziggy quickly.” You cover the speaker on your phone and take a deep breath, turning to where he’s doing homework sat at the table on the other side of the room, already looking at you after he’d heard his name.

“How would you feel about going over to Renata and Amabella’s for dinner?”

He thinks for a moment, and then nods, serious and then smiling. “I like Amabella. And maybe they’ll have better taste in vegetables than you do.” You laugh, sticking your tongue out at him, and then you tell Renata that Ziggy said he’d love that, that you’ll be over as soon as traffic allows, and she sounds relieved when you thank her for the invitation.

She answers the door and looks more relaxed than you’ve seen her previously, in a jumper that looks so soft you want to reach out and touch her, and instead you smile and let Ziggy lead the way in, him thanking her for having the both of you as you’d always told him to. Amabella drags Ziggy away, and Renata yells something about dinner being in half an hour, and then the two of you are standing slightly awkwardly in her entrance way for a moment, until she beckons you through to the kitchen, where you can see that even though she lost her dream house she didn’t lose her dream view, and you’re struck by the pinks sketching through the sky, lighting the house in gold.

“I’d already made margaritas before Amabella had asked if Ziggy could come over, if you’re interested?” she offers and you smile, letting your gaze wander back to her, to her doused in pink and gold, features made soft by the setting sun.

“I definitely am.” She busies herself with getting glasses while you look out at the sunset but you mostly look at her, admire the way that her jumper tries to slip off of one shoulder and how she seems flustered, because no matter how much time passes you know she still feels terrible for what happened with Ziggy, regardless of all the small ways to tries to extend peace offerings and how you always try to accept as effusively as you can without revealing your feelings. She notices you looking (at the sunset) and smiles, handing you your margarita that even has sugar around the rim of the glass.

“We can go out on the deck, if you want?” You nod, grinning, and the two of you stand at the edge of the decking, watching the waves crash into the cliffs below you and admiring the blazing setting sun reflecting off of the water.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, sighing, relaxing in front of you for what feels like the first time all over again, like it’s different when it’s not mitigated by the presence of the others.

“It really is,” you reply, and you think of the absolute cheesiness of this moment, of you mooning after her like a teen with a crush and her staring on obliviously at the sunset. You sip your drink and smile. “This is good.”

“You sound surprised,” she glances sideways, looking away from the sunset to meet your eyes, smiling. “If there’s one thing I’m good at it’s making a mean margarita.”

“You’re good at lots of things,” you roll your eyes, smiling, and she just smiles back, shrugging like she knows that you're right.

Ziggy is very pleased with Amabella's choice of turkey dinosaurs, and there's even some broccoli which so happens to be his favourite vegetable. You’re very pleased with the light buzz you've got going on, even though it's barely seven o’clock, and you're both a little giggly as you help her stack the dishwasher and stare out at the stars and the fairy lights through her huge kitchen windows. She pours you another drink, pours herself one too, and you both go back out onto the deck, sitting in the chairs facing the oceans, drinks in hand. It’s perfect, and quiet, and you’re surprised to note that while you do feel wobbly you don’t feel woozy, you just feel content and warm, and you distantly wonder how much tequila she put in these as you take another sip. The two of you murmur to each other about something that isn’t important, something that you won’t recall later, and when you finish your drink and look at your watch you realise that it’s past Ziggy’s bedtime, and that you’re definitely not a fit state to drive anywhere right now.

“Oh shit,” you mutter, scrubbing your face with your hands and looking over at Renata, who’s looking at you in soft concern, who sits up in unison with you.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s past Ziggy’s bedtime and I’m not in a fit state to drive,” you sigh, and pull your phone out. “Maybe Maddie will come get me.”

You dial and Renata wanders off inside with the glasses to give you some privacy, and you wrap the blanket tighter around yourself as it rings.

“Hi honey,” she says cheerfully, and you smile.

“Hey Maddie, I have a huge favour to ask you,” you start, and she laughs.

“So long as you’re not planning to abandon me with all five children tomorrow, shoot.”

“It’s not that, I uh, I need a lift?”

“Oh, okay? From where?”

“Renata’s?” You wince as she gasps and squeals right in your eardrum.

“What?! Why didn’t you text me and tell me you were there?!”

“There wasn’t really time, apparently Amabella wanted Ziggy to come over for dinner so I also came over for dinner and had too many margaritas and now I can’t drive home.”

“Unfortunately I’m not really available to pick you up right now, maybe try one of the others?” You can hear her shit eating grin, and you know that she’s doing this to fuck with you.

“You’re going to post in that group chat that you guys have about us that they should say no, aren’t you?”

“What group chat?” she asks, pseudo innocently, and you sigh.

“How is this helping anyone?” you ask, and she laughs.

“Well now you have to stay so, maybe more margaritas will end up being consumed, maybe the two of you will fall asleep snuggled on the sofa in the middle of a winding, confusing drunk conversation.” You can hear her clapping her hands together, and you want to punch her, just a little bit.

“I will get you back for this,” you threaten, and she just laughs.

“Have a good night honey!” You hang up, debate calling the others, and then Renata uncertainly drifts onto her own deck, looking unsure.

“Didn’t go well I presume?”

“No, it didn’t, Maddie’s had a couple of glasses of wine too so she’s out.”

“Well, I mean, I know taxis are expensive, so you could stay here if you wanted? You’d have to share the spare room with Ziggy or take the couch, but you’re both welcome?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” You wonder for a moment how the hell Maddie managed to set this up so perfectly.

“It’s honestly fine,” she smiles. “I’ve got some spare toothbrushes, and I’m sure I can find a t-shirt that’ll drown Ziggy but be perfectly fine for him to sleep in.” She looks down at her phone screen, notes the time. “Speaking of, it’s time for them both to go to bed.”

Between the two of you you get everything sorted, get them both settled into bed, Ziggy complaining about the lack of Star Wars sheets but otherwise not appearing to mind the change of venue, and you both leave the doors open just a crack and the hall light on, so that Ziggy doesn’t wake up disoriented, and then creep back to the living room. It feels domestic, feels like a routine you wouldn’t mind becoming more permanent, especially when she turns to you and asks if you’d like another margarita, and you nod with a smile. You both settle back onto your seats out on the deck, and you wrap her blanket around yourself once again and try not to breathe her smell in too obviously, some kind of expensive perfume that you’re sure costs about the same amount as a month’s rent. You let the margarita and her chattering about work and about school and about future plans wash over you, and she doesn't seem to mind that you make her do all of the talking. You’ve always liked to sit back and watch, and you watch her gesture and you nod in the right places and you hope this happens again soon.

You wake up to her nudging you lightly, and when your eyes flutter open she's looking at you in a way that makes your tummy flip, makes your chest ache, and then you realise you were asleep and she realises you're awake and the look’s gone and you forget about it, sure you imagined it. She gives you a random old Harvard t-shirt and some shorts and sets you up on the couch and then she says good night, quiet and warm and soft in a way that you would have never expected not that long ago. You hug her, impulsively, thank her for letting you stay, and when she disappears you flop onto the couch and let a slow grin work its way over your face, burying your head under the pillow she’d pulled off of her own bed. It smells like her, everything smells like her, and you fall asleep to that thought.

The morning is you hurrying out of there early enough that you can get home, get Ziggy dressed and yourself showered and some breakfast in both of you, and when you tell her that you should do this again she smiles, shy, in her pyjamas with her hair tied back in a scrunchie that is both ridiculous and adorable. She agrees, and you briefly wonder what a sleepover at yours would be like, both of you squeezed on the fold out bed, and Ziggy doesn't say anything about you smiling to yourself on the drive home but you think he notices.

You’re the first there at pick-up and you're slightly disappointed that it’s Madeline who’s the first to join you but she goes straight in on teasing you, and you scold her for abandoning you in your time of need but your smile ruins it. She grins at you, warm and bright and somehow proud, and by the time Celeste joins you both she's teasing you relentlessly, and Celeste just laughs and pats your arm, watching for when the kids descend upon you.  
Renata calls again the next week, invites the two of you over again, and you make a joke about packing an overnight bag which is returned with a “well… I mean, you could?” So you do, and you drink too many vodka martinis so everything is warm and she's slightly flushed and she rambles once the kids have gone to bed and it becomes routine. At some point you start leaving clothes there, so you and Ziggy always have pyjamas, and at some point you start borrowing her shower and the four of you have breakfast together and then drive in separately and sometimes you wear her t-shirts still and she wears yours. It feels domestic, but not in the way it does with Maddie, domestic in a way like you want to spend the rest of your life waking up in her house and having breakfast with her, her smiling at you over her orange juice while Ziggy and Amabella discuss Star Wars very seriously.

Maddie’s wholly unbearable the entire time, especially the first time she sees you in that Harvard shirt that you had become extremely fond of, that had somehow made it’s way into your bag and that you had no intention of giving back.

“Now if I remember correctly, you never went to Harvard,” she pretends to think for a moment. “But I'm pretty sure we both know someone that did.” You roll your eyes but you can't help the smile that spreads across your face, the same one that comes out whenever Renata is mentioned or whenever she’s not there and you don't have to keep it in check.

“I stole it one of the times I stayed over,” you shrugged, making light of it, turning back to picking at your muffin.

“I can’t believe neither of you have said anything to each other yet, it’s been months.” You opened your mouth to argue but she was already steamrolling ahead in that way that you'd always found endearing. “I don't know whether or not you've noticed but she's not extending sleepover invitations to the rest of us.”

“She's just trying to make up for what happened with Ziggy, she just feels bad, and the two of you had that planned to be lifelong rivalry thing going on.”

“But she didn't have that with Bonnie, or Celeste, who she was always overwhelmingly civil to.”

You shrug again, slightly uneasy with the faint hope that flutters through your stomach, with the excitement of the idea that she likes you more than the others, even if not necessarily in the way that you like her. “She just likes that I let her talk about what happened at her last board meeting without rolling my eyes.”

“Hey, I'm much better about that now.”

“I can still see your eyes screaming for help,” you tease, and she laughs.

 

She comes over to pick Amabella up like she does pretty much everyday, but there's something going on, she's edgy, nervous, and you feel like she has something she needs or wants to say.

“I was wondering if you, uhm, wanted to come to dinner? Just me and you?” You open your mouth to reply, to say yes, but she's too busy being nervous, giving extra reasons. “Just as a thank you, for what you've done for Amabella and for me recently, and i already spoke to Madeline and she said she’d take the kids for the night, so you don't have to worry about Ziggy.”

“I’d love to.” She grins back at you, and you see the relief conveyed by the way she relaxes and you absently wonder what could have made her so nervous about asking you to dinner. “When were you thinking?” 

“Tomorrow night?” Tomorrow was a Saturday, and apart from an afternoon with Maddie you had nothing planned, so you nod, enthusiastically.

“Of course, I look forward to it.” You both get distracted by Amabella trying to show her something then, and she herds her out before her, turning back with a smile and a soft “I’ll see you tomorrow,” before she disappears into the glare of the bright evening sun.

You’ve barely made it into Blue Bells when Maddie starts grinning at you, looking as though she’s about to launch into some kind of tirade about something she’s particularly excited about, but she merely settles on something slightly more nonchalant.

“So, Renata called me to ask if I’d made good on that offer to watch Ziggy and Amabella for the night, since she’d talked to you and gotten confirmation for tonight.” She merely makes a statement and then watches you, sees that shy, excited smile.

“I am going to hers for dinner tonight, without the kids, it's true.”

She brightens in a way that you know means she has a plan, that she’ll approach this on the attack like she does with all things. “Okay we’re going to get coffee and maybe some pancakes into you and then I'm calling the girls and we are making sure you look amazing tonight.”

You feel your alarm grow in the face of her dogged determination, but you also know that once she's got herself excited about something. “Maddie I really doubt that this is a “looking amazing” sort of thing.”

“Sweetheart, you did not hear how excited she sounded on the phone. Like she was trying to tamp down on it but couldn't stop herself.” You feel that now familiar roll of hope in your tummy, those butterflies that you’d forgotten you could feel.

You don't think as you lean forwards and grin as you ask “really?” in an awed sort of voice, and Maddie’s answering grin is so massive you'd think that she was the one with a maybe date tonight.

“Trust me, Renata’s going to look more than “amazing".” 

“I hear you have a date,” Celeste says with a smile as she comes into your apartment, garment bags folded over her arm and a box that you don't recognise in her hand, and your alarm grows even further as you realise they're really going to pull out all of the stops on this, especially after Bonnie walks in with a smile, a bag that is large and unfamiliar slung over her shoulder.

“It’s not a date,” you protest, nervously scratching your forehead.

“It sounds like a date to me,” Bonnie adds, her bag joining the pile of things the others brought in the middle of your tiny living room. “Renata’s energy has been… different recently, and I'm glad to hear that you’ve been the cause of these positive changes.”

Maddie pulls out a bottle of champagne from somewhere, and they hustle you into the bathroom to get showered, and you spend maybe longer in there than you should have done but when you come out in your bathrobe there’s America’s Next Top Model droning in the background and they're huddled around the large box that Celeste brought, discussing whether to go for a dark eye or dark lip. You leave them to it, smiling as you slip into the kitchen to grab some water, steering clear of the champagne because you get tipsy so damn easily and you want a clear head for this, whatever this turns out to be. When you come back Maddie waves you onto your own sofa, and Celeste takes place behind you and Maddie leans over you and between them they work some magic on your face and hair, and you have to admit you feel soft of like a princess.

Their talk drifts over you, Maddie’s outraged tirade at what a particular designer was putting out this season washing over you like a warm, protective blanket, so that you barely notice that Bonnie’s picked a dress until she moves towards you, holding it out with a grin.

“That’s way too much for me to get away with excusing this as a friends thing-” you start but Maddie’s already shaking her head.

“It’s perfect.” When she turns to you with a smile you're reminded sharply of a time Before, when you and your friends would do exactly this, and somehow that's comforting instead of painful, to know that somehow dates or almost dates can still be just as exciting, as exciting as they were before that hotel room.

“Guess that means my jeans are out,” you sigh, putting it on a little to see her smile widen even further.

“Oh honey, your jeans were never in.”

When they're done you blink into the mirror in confusion, seeing some glittering, gorgeous version of yourself that you'd forgotten could exist.

“You look beautiful,” Celeste says quietly, seriously, and you look at her, the most beautiful woman in any room, the kind of woman that people could and would go to war for, a veritable Helen of Troy in your living room, and you see that she really believes it.

“Thank you so much,” you almost whisper, and you don't tear up because you're scared of ruining your perfect, delicately applied makeup, but your throat goes tight as you look at yourself in the mirror surrounded by three breathtakingly beautiful women that you love, that you love with your entire heart.

The three of you spend what feels like a long time in front of that mirror, until Maddie’s phone vibrates and she checks it, cursing when she notes the time.

“You need to go,” she says urgently, and she disappears into Ziggy's room to examine your mostly bare wardrobe and comes out looking slightly annoyed but determined.

“What shoe size are you?”

“I'm a six, why?” You ask, but she's already slipping her own heels off, handing them to you, sinking back down to her actual height.

“Thankfully I wore black pumps today and Louboutins look good with whatever a person’s wearing, because your shoe choices are sorely lacking in a good dependable pair of heels.”

You laugh, shrugging. “It’s been a while since I've even thought about heels.”

“I’m sure there will be many date nights with Renata ahead that will make you think about them again,” she teases as you slip them on, the added height familiar while you're also aware of how long it's been as you experimentally take a few steps.

She checks the time again and nods to herself firmly. “Okay you have to go, I need to go relieve Abigail from babysitting before she does something like put her auction website back up to get my attention, call me as soon as you get home and tell me about everything that happened.”

You laugh but don't try to argue, and trail the others out of your apartment, getting reused to wearing heels like you'd broken your leg and had to learn how to walk again once it was healed. You all hug in the parking lot, exchanging air kisses in the warm summer evening air, and Maddie watches you take a deep breath as you slide into your car, a part of you distantly remembering how to do that gracefully in a dress and heels.

“Break a leg!” She shouts, relentlessly cheerful, and you laugh.

“I just might in these heels!” you shout back and you hear their laughter right before you start the engine, and you're smiling as you lead the way onto the road, all of you waving as you part ways.

By the time you get to Renata’s your anxiety is back in full force and you've convinced yourself that she's going to open the door in jeans and t-shirt and ask where her Harvard one is, to the point where when the door does open you don't even look at her, just let a torrent of panic fill the air between you. 

“Oh God this is so embarrassing I'm so sorry just they all came over and they wouldn't let me wear my jeans and - oh.” You're literally startled into silence by Renata in a dress that you've never seen before, and heels that make her legs look impossibly long, her makeup softer than you've ever seen it when she's worn it for work and she looks so beautiful you swear you almost swoon right there on her porch. “Oh my God you look incredible,” you manage to breathe out, and she smiles but thankfully doesn't laugh, just leads the way into her house that you've been to a million times but you feel awkward in because the air is somehow so different, the tension all kinds of unacknowledged but like you're both aware of it. You almost trip up the step but you don't think she notices, and you just quietly admire her as she leads you out onto the balcony, which you know is her favourite place in the house and is also yours, and the wind ruffles her light summery dress and her hair and you can smell her perfume. You’ve seen her dressed up hundreds of time, see her dressed up for work every day, but all of that is different to how she looks now, all that armour nothing like the softness in her eyes and the gauzy quality of the material of her dress. 

“Thank you, you scrub up pretty well yourself,” she says but you think she's holding back as she hands you a glass of wine, and your fingers touch on the glass and linger there for a moment and you feel that hope in your tummy flip flop into something that might be real and palpable and possible.

Dinner is amazing and you tell her so, and full of glances that feel like acknowledgements and conversation topics that just feel like distractions, but you're enjoying yourself immensely, enjoying this delicious buildup in a way that you didn't know that you knew how to.

You help her clean up, because you were dragged up right, and it's while you're scraping your plate into the bin that you notice there's takeout containers from that Chinese place that you'd talked about once, and you turn to her with a grin spreading across your face.

“Did you seriously get takeout and then pretend you didn't?” You ask, and you know you shouldn't be teasing her like this but no one’s ever gone to these sort of lengths for you, and you couldn't have ever imagined her doing something like this before. “Were you trying to impress me?” 

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” She asks, pretend obliviously, and you move forward almost without control over it, floating towards her without meaning to, like you couldn't help yourself.

“I don't know… I guess for the same reason that you wore that dress,” you reply, and it's flirty and you're smiling but trying not to.

“I’m hoping it’s for the same reason you came over for dinner even though you know that I'm a notoriously terrible cook.”

You almost gasp at the admission of awareness of whatever this is, and when you link your fingers through hers to pull her closer she comes willingly, leaning into you, her dress silky under your hand that comes to rest on her waist. It’s her that slides her hand along your jaw, that pulls you in for that first tentative kiss, and you feel her smile as she pulls away, your eyes opening to meet hers which are the kind of intense blue that always takes your breath away. You hear your phone vibrate in your pocket and you ignore it, cupping her face in your palm and looking at her in disbelief, noticing that she’s slightly taller than you, noticing the lines around her eyes and the smile that still lingers around her mouth.

“Is that the hot date you had planned for after this?” she asks, teasing, whispering as though a loud noise would break this moment, even as you both mostly ignore that your phone vibrates at least five more times in quick succession.

“It’ll be Maddie asking how the hot date I'm already at is going,” you pretend to think for a moment. “That or Ziggy’s dying, but I like to think she’d call me for that.”

She laughs, and you think that that might be when she's the most beautiful, when her eyes scrunch up and her smile widens and she leans her head back. That thought is potentially proven wrong by the look she gives you after your second kiss, and then the look after your third, then your fourth. You wonder if she's able to get more beautiful right in front of you, but then you're distracted by another kiss, another fleeting touch, another smile against your skin.


End file.
